


The Tomb Raider and the Consulting Detective

by TheChimeraSculptress



Category: Lara Croft: Tomb Raider (Movies), Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-21
Updated: 2017-01-21
Packaged: 2018-09-18 23:41:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9407939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheChimeraSculptress/pseuds/TheChimeraSculptress
Summary: Lara Croft is framed for murder and there is only one person who can clear her name. The only problem is, he irritates the hell out of her!





	

**Author's Note:**

> My friend and I started giving each other writing prompts, that we found on the internet, for practice. This was mine...
> 
> "She gripped the rim of the porcelain sink and tried to steady her hands. One last time, she whispered to herself. One. Last. Time."
> 
> I was a little bit naughty and changed 'last' to 'more' because it fitted better in the story.
> 
> I decided to write an intro for a fanfiction I've been pondering for years but have never started. A crossover Sherlock/Tomb Raider fic (Benedict Cumberbatch's Sherlock, and Angelina Jolie's movie Lara Croft).

She gripped the rim of the porcelain sink and tried to steady her hands. One more time, she whispered to herself. One. More. Time.

There followed a gentle knock on the bathroom door. She knew immediately who it would be. 

“Lara? Are you all right in there?”

She glared in its direction, green eyes narrowing. “One more time, Hillary. If he patronises me one more time, I swear to you, I will punch him in the face.”

She thought she heard him chuckle but it was difficult to tell through the heavy antique wood. “I am sure you are not the only one who feels the urge.” 

“Mycroft I can tolerate, though he is a pompous prig the best of times. But his brother -”

She gripped the sink harder wishing it was the detective's neck but at the same time rolled her eyes. No, her mistake, she thought sardonically. Not simply a detective. A consulting detective. One must not forget that. He had pointed it out enough bloody times.

“Hilly, he is the most arrogant, the most irritating, the most insufferable man I have ever met!”

“While I am the first to agree, I suggest you take some long deep breaths and return downstairs quickity quick. Mycroft is a busy man and -”

“Queen and Country owes me a favour,” Lara quickly put in, though she knew she didn't need to spell it out. Hillary had actually joined her on her quest to recover and destroy Pandora's Box, and had even been held hostage in the process.

“But his brother doesn't," Hillary promptly countered. "Whatever you may think of him, Sherlock Holmes is the only one who can help you right now.” 

Lara frowned. 

“Look, can I please come in? I do not particularly like talking through doors.”

With a sigh Lara turned from the sink, leaning back against it instead. “Of course, Hilly,” she relented. “It's not locked.” 

The door creaked open and her trusted butler peered in. He looked more harried than usual but he always hated it when things didn't run smoothly. 

“Come on, Lara. You have faced worse things than Sherlock Holmes.”

Lara made a face, unconvinced. “You think so?”

Hillary paused to straighten a crooked towel. Ignoring her remark he added: “And John Watson, in contrast, seems a pleasant enough chap.”

“John Watson must have the patience of a saint to put up with that man!”

Hillary looked thoughtful. “Yes, I must confess that I was surprised Mr Holmes even had a friend. Ex military, apparently. But they do tend to have thick skins.”

“Must be rhino thick!”

He regarded Lara sympathetically. “Please, Lara. For your own sake. Return downstairs. You have been accused of murder. We all know you have been framed. We can even guess who by. But only Sherlock Holmes can prove it. Despite his many shortcomings, he is brilliant. One of a kind. I hate to say it, but you need him.”

Lara humphed and folded her arms crossly but after a long moment of silence affection slipped into her eyes. “Oh Hilly. I do so hate it when you talk sense.” 

With a twitch of a satisfied smile, he gestured towards the door. “That is what I am here for m'lady.”

As they walked out onto the landing he leaned in closer. “And now I suggest we focus upon what you do best.” 

He smirked as they started down the long sweeping staircase. “Bryce is in dire need of rescuing.”


End file.
